By boyryan54
I am sick. I feel pretty crummy, but my Dom seems pretty happy about it for some reason.
It started a few days ago with a sore throat and a cough. Seemed innocent. My Dom kept asking how i was feeling, with a sadistic glint in his eye. I knew he was a sadist, but this seemed cruel to get pleasure from a sick slave. This morning, things took a turn for the worst. I developed a fever and when I coughed, a shiny black tar-like substance was on my tissue. I remember thinking it was spreading over the Kleenex, but that seemed crazy. Must have been the fever playing with my mind. When I mentioned it to my Dom, he said with a chuckle, “That’s impossible, slave! Now let’s tuck you into the cage for the night.” I wanted to plead to go to the doctor, but I knew it would be no use. My Dom knows what’s best for me, after all. With a heavy yawn, I crawled into my cage, and my Dom patted my head and said, “I’m sure you’ll feel better soon.”
The next morning, I woke with a start in my cage. I couldn’t see, my tongue felt weird, and I had a hard time forming words. When I went to go rub the cobwebs out of my eyes, I noticed I couldn’t feel my eyes! My head felt like it was covered with latex. I started to panic, and started grunting and kicking the door of my cage. My Dom finally came down when he heard the noise, and even in my blind state, I could tell from the stomping of his boots that he was mad to be woken up so early! When he entered the room, the energy in the air was thick with anticipation, but it seemed to evaporate the second he got to my cage.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are above the age of consent, but that kinda goes out the window since they engage in non-consensual behavior. The fact that it turns out all right for our fictional protagonists’ relationship doesn’t make it OK IRL. Always keep it safe, sane, and consensual. Even if that means you have to learn how to communicate better. Some details I left vague intentionally, so you fill them in however will make you more horny. This story is dedicated to Strappeddown, who inspired me to go back to work on it. And to Padlock86, who forced me to finish it.
“Fetch! Good boy!” Brett watched as Mascot chased after the leather-coated stick he’d thrown across the gym. The German Shepherd styled leather pup’s powerful and graceful movements were hypnotically natural and easy-looking. It still took Brett’s breath away. Like it had every day for the past several weeks. Brett had been true to his word. Every day after work, he stopped by the leather store and warehouse near the waterfront to visit Mascot. He’d walk in, greet the staff, then scan the security card he’d been given to access the pup training facility.
